In death, that I may live
by irishrose2
Summary: William Ficathon Entry. Challenge Specifics in first chapter. Buffy, William, and vengeance demons.
1. Default Chapter

**Title**: In death, that I may live…

**For**: perletwo

**Pairing **: William/Buffy

**Maximum rating **: NC-17

**Genre/tone **: humor/romance/mild angst

**3 Things she wanted included **: Buffy starting out appreciating William, but ending up missing Spike; Anya/William interaction; William in a big-box bookstore a la Borders or Barnes & Noble

**3 Things she didn't want in it **: Anyone being mean to William (this means YOU Xander); any major character death; the Potentials (nobody needs that, least of all a transplanted Victorian poet).

**Spoilers **: Any and all episodes are fair game. Starts off during Seeing Red (hey, watch it! That rock hurt!) and proceeds wildly AU from there.

**Chapter 1**

Anya felt the sudden unmistakable pull that signaled it was time to attend to her other job. This one wasn't as much of a summons to wreak vengeance; it felt more like a possible window for justice. But work was work, and she was still on a bit of a probationary period since D'hoffran had taken her back into the fold. Nothing formal, more of a, 'I'll-be-monitoring-you-until-I'm-certain-you're-up-to-full-speed,' kind of thing.

So she quickly locked the door to the Magic Box, changed the sign to "closed", secured the cash in the safe, and tidied her dress up a bit. Satisfied that everything was in order, she focused her power to teleport, letting the feelings of the unfortunate woman guide her path straight to… Buffy's bathroom?

"Buffy?!"

"Anya?!"

"Oh my gosh! Buffy, what happened?" Anya queried as she scurried around Buffy's bathroom, pulling out the first aid supplies and a clean washcloth.

Buffy, however, failed to answer her question. She appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. So Anya set about tending to Buffy's scrapes and fetched the ice pack for her. That was when she spotted the unmistakable black leather coat.

"So, tell me that, at least, Spike looks worse that you do," Anya said as she gently applied the icepack to the worst of Buffy's bruises. That earned her a sudden panicked look from Buffy. "I knew Spike could still be dangerous, but I must admit that I'm surprised he'd ever actually hurt you."

A small sad smile crossed Buffy's face. "Yeah, well, let's just say that I've learned how to ring Pavlov's bell. But this time he tried to ring mine."

"I can only imagine the intensity with which you two would…" Anya trailed off as she stared into space for a few moments with a lopsided grin, only to be brought back by Buffy's hiss of discomfort when Anya pressed a little too firmly with the icepack. "Oh, sorry! I was imagining the intensity with which the two of you would have had sex."

Again, Buffy remained silent. Until she noticed Anya looking confused.

"What?"

"Huh?" Anya replied, caught off guard. "Oh, I was just thinking how focused he was. Even drunk, he was trying to be…" Anya stopped as she noticed Buffy looking very pained. "This one of those occasions when I shouldn't say anything, isn't it?"

"I… I usually didn't let him… it wasn't that kind of…" Buffy sheepishly tried to explain the complexities of her relationship with Spike. Anya was the silent one now.

"But, sometimes," Buffy began, "He was so… He would be so gentle. Trying to show me the man he… the man he used to be, before. The one that I could…" Silence followed that, and stretched into long moments.

"But, that could never happen. He's not that man. He's not. God, sometimes I wish Spike the Bloody Vampire didn't exist. Then he couldn't…"

"Buffy!" Anya exclaimed, and began frantically shaking her head. "No! I didn't hear you!"

"What?" Buffy asked, confusedly.

"Lalalalalalala," Anya loudly chanted with her fingers inserted in her ears.

"Anya, what are you…" Buffy tried to ask above Anya's screeching. She was soon silenced, when they were joined in Buffy's bathroom by another visitor. D'Hoffran.

Anya's eyes went wide as saucers, but she continued her chanting.

"Really Anyanka, do you honestly expect me to fall for this charade?" Her boss asked, giving Anya a rather pointed look.

Anya's chanting fell silent and she dropped her fingers, to nervously begin winding them around each other.

"Please tell me you were not attempting to circumvent your duty to this woman."

"This woman?" Buffy indignantly repeated. "Like you're too good to remember who I am?"

"Your station is not important," He responded. "What is important here, is that Anyanka was attempting to thwart your wish for vengeance. It is not a matter to be taken lightly."

"I made no wish! And she isn't even a vengeance demon anymore!" Buffy adamantly insisted.

"So you did not speak to Anyanka the words, 'I wish,' followed by, 'Spike the Bloody Vampire didn't exist'?"

"I…well, yeah, but that's not what I," Buffy began, only to be cut off but a hand of dismissal from D'Hoffran.

"Then the wish is confirmed as valid. Anyanka, do you intend to fulfill this wish?" He asked.

"But, Buffy didn't…"

"Very well then, I will complete the wish myself," D'Hoffran interrupted, raising his hands in flourish.

"No!" Anya screamed as she desperately reached for one of his arms. "I'll do it! I'll…I'll do it."

D'Hoffran dropped his hands. After a seconds pause, he waved one hand toward Buffy and gave Anya an expectant look.

Anya's features morphed into that of the vengeance demon. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that her very spur of the moment plan worked. "Wish granted," She whispered.

After a second of silence, D'Hoffran gave a small sound of disapproval. "Not what I had in mind."

"It was technically adherent to the request. Besides, a Victorian virgin momma's boy in the 21st century? Why go for the kill, when you can go for the hurt. Isn't that your motto?" Anya asked.

D'Hoffran conceded a small smile, before disappearing in a cloud of bright and excessive smoke.

* * *

The sudden scream rent the evening, and brought Clem running out of the crypt, to find Spike prostrate on the ground. He quickly flipped him over, and gave him a few cautious slaps to the face to rouse him. It worked. 

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

After several seconds of this, they both trailed off into a rather uncomfortable silence.

William stared at the very strange looking, well, person? Thing? Hallucination? He reached a tentative hand out and poked what he supposed was its arm, eliciting a loud giggle from it.

"Dude, you know I'm ticklish!" Clem blurted, before quickly glancing around him. "Not out here! If the guys ever found out I'm ticklish…"

"I beg your pardon?" William asked, clearly offended. "I assure you…sir…I am not some," William dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper, "mary!" He finished before quickly scanning the area to ensure no one had heard his lowly slang, as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"A what?" Clem asked with evident confusion. Well, as evident as William supposed the creature could manage anyhow. He couldn't be entirely certain. Maybe that expression was anger. Maybe he'd insulted the being. Then again, it had insulted him first. But that exact moment was when what he'd spied, in his brief perusal of his surroundings, finally registered.

"Why are we in a cemetery?" He wondered aloud.

"Um, because you live here," Clem replied.

"I most certainly do not!" William indignantly responded. "My home is no where near any cemeteries," He informed the thing in a matter-of-fact tone. "Mother! Oh my, she'll be worried beyond measure if I don't return home at once."

That was when his last memory returned to him, causing him to wobble a little. The street, the stable, the beautiful woman, no…she wasn't beautiful, she'd been horrendous. A,a… a monster. His left hand quickly covered his neck, but he felt no pain, no telling wetness of a bleeding wound.

"Your mother? Man, you must've had more to drink than I thought. Should've known, what with all that talk about taking some trip across the globe. Like you'd ever leave Buffy. Come on," Clem said, reaching out to try and grab his arm. "Let's get you back inside and we'll get you all tucked in bed."

"What? No!" William lurched away in his panic. "What, what are you? Are you one of them?" He squinted his eyes, bringing the creature into better focus. Which only increased his terror.

"Them?" Clem parroted.

"You are! You're a, a…vampire!" William exclaimed.

"What? Me? Now I know you've had too much," Clem chuckled as he reached once again in an attempt to seize William by the arm.

"You'll not be getting a hold of me a second time!" William resolved as he stepped backward several steps, keeping his eye on the demon… and proceeded to trip over a low grave marker. His footsteps faltering, he fell. He tried to twist and catch himself, but ended up crashing sideways into another headstone, his head striking it none too gently. The last thing he remembered, was the disfigured demon leaning over him, its razor sharp teeth glistening as it uttered its terrible curse at him…

"Dude, that had to hurt like a bitch!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Sorry, Buffy," Clem apologized as he hauled an unconscious William into Buffy's house and placed him on her couch. "Usually when Spike gets like this, I just leave him at the crypt. But, then again, I've never seen him like this before."

"What do you mean you've never seen him like this. Spike gets roughed up all the time!" Buffy said, taking in the nasty gash across the right side of his forehead and the wicked looking bruise that already surrounded it.

"Yeah, sure, but he's never had a heart beat before," Clem pointed out.

Buffy shared a knowing look with Anya, before tentatively reaching for the pulse point on his wrist. She had to see for herself. Until then, she would happily continue to captain her little flagship on deNile. As soon as she felt the weak little thumping, she drew her hand back as if burned. So Anya had indeed brought him back to life, except this wasn't Spike. It was William.

After a few hasty explanations about her vengeance demon status, Anya had painfully explained that Spike no longer existed. That the person that looked like Spike, was in fact William, and he would have no memory of ever being Spike. That the things that made Spike who he was, had never happened to William.

As she tried to reconcile the Spike she knew and the bits about William that Anya had been told by Halfrek, she wondered just who this person in front of her was. Spike painted his human self as dangerous and powerful, relishing his death and the new life that Drusilla bestowed upon him. Halfrek described him to Anya as a pathetic simpleton whose own mother couldn't get rid of him. So which one was the true William? Her ponderings were interrupted by Anya's narration of the evening's excitement, which was often punctuated by an excited, "No Way!" or "Holy Cow!" from Clem.

"You can do that?!" Clem exclaimed.

"Of course! It's actually been done before, but usually by the time people get around to summoning us, they're pretty pissed off about all the murder and mayhem and just want the vampire dead. And then there's the women who want the best of both worlds, and ask for children or even day-walkers. But, no one's asked for one of those is a long…"

A long low groan brought Anya's treatise on vampire related wishes to a sudden stop, as everyone looked to the source of the noise. As William failed his week attempt to sit up, Buffy quickly turned back to see a semi-lucid William looking up at her in squinty-eyed awe.

"Is this Heaven?"

* * *

The first thing he saw was the exquisite creature looking down on him. She was wreathed in gold and bright gleaming light, and she fairly put to shame every other creature he'd set eyes on. She had to be an angel.

"Is this Heaven?" He asked aloud, knowing already that it must be; for, in life, such a radiant beauty as she would never have looked upon him with such concern. She smiled, and it brought such joy to him that he should be so favored.

"No, and despite evidence to the contrary, it isn't hell either," She spoke.

"But, surely you are an angel," He insisted.

A rather undignified snort from elsewhere in the room brought to him the awareness that there were others among them.

"Believe me, she's no angel. Real angels are usually much more terrifying," Anya informed them.

"Which isn't to say that Buffy can't be scary," Clem added. William tried squinting a bit more to identify the source of the comment. "And I think that's my cue to leave so he doesn't wig out again. Bye guys!"

William finally succeeded in sitting up, and noted another beautiful young woman in the room, though not quite as lovely as the first. His first thought was that she must be a servant, for she appeared to be clothed in servant's dress, only much shorter, showing long and lean legs with gracefully curving calves…

William quickly averted his eyes, and found them settling on yet another set of legs. They were equally unencumbered, and appeared to be very well muscled yet incredibly feminine, much like those of a prima ballerina. He automatically followed their curve as it led upward, and quickly discovered that the angel he'd marveled was clothed only in her dressing gown, leaving just enough to the imagination as to what was concealed beneath it. That thought quickly led to other deliciously lascivious thoughts.

As the more proper side of him finally regained control of his mind, William visibly snapped out of his thoughts and brought one hand up to shield his eyes, as he felt a telling blush deepen across his face. He was beyond mortified that his kind benefactor had seen his brazen oogling of her form.

"Terribly sorry, I…I didn't mean to…" He stuttered out.

"Huh? Didn't mean to what?" Buffy asked.

William tried to find words to explain his reason for apology, but failed to find one acceptable for the present company. He finally settled on a very simple explanation. "Your dress, madam."

"What? I'm not wearing a dress," Buffy responded with confusion.

"He's talking about your clothes. See, back in his time, our clothes would be considered obscene. In fact, your guardian and his parents could insist you two be married now. That, or they'd send you to a convent for being a seductive temptress, and privately demand that William compensate the family for damages," Anya supplied.

"But, he's seen you too!" Buffy observed, her voiced tinged with what sounded to be a good measure of desperation. "So, how do I explain all of this to him? 'Hi, my name's Buffy, and women now days run around wearing what you probably considered underwear. Oh and by the way, it isn't 1880 anymore, it's 2002, and you're here because I accidentally made a wish to a vengeance demon?'" She hissed in an overly loud whisper.

"Well, you could try talking to him now that he's conscious and sitting about a foot away from you," Anya offered.

"Oh, right, yeah," Buffy agreed. "William," Buffy soothed as she gently placed her hand around the one William's was shielding his eyes with, but he quickly jerked away and brought the other hand up to take its place. "Hi! My name's Buffy, and women…"

"If it's all the same madam…" Spike interrupted.

"No, it's not. That's what I'm going to tell you, if you'd stop interrupting!"

William spared a momentary look of incredulity, before once again shielding his view. He wasn't quite used to ladies being quite so forward. It was, inappropriate, unladylike, infuriating, and…. Enticing?

"I'm sorry Miss Buffy, but I really must insist on speaking with your father," William resolutely stated.

"Well, he's about four thousand miles away at the moment," Buffy replied with impatience, one hand propped on her hip.

"Your guardian then, perhaps?"

"Ugh!" Buffy stomped her foot, clearly frustrated. "Look, I don't have a guardian either. It's just me, Dawn, Willow, and I think maybe Tara again. No guardians, no chaperones, no corsets…well, actually Tara has one or two…"

A moment of clarity finally found it's way to him. "Oh dear, pardon my misunderstanding. I had no idea this was an Introducing House."

"A what house?"

"A high-end brothel," Anya clarified. "You should be quite flattered!"

"I'm supposed to be flattered he thinks I'm a prostitute?" Buffy asked Anya, then turned back around to face William. "I am not a prostitute, buster!" She said, waving an angry finger at him.

"No? Well then, I must say I'm quite relieved," William confided, then seemed to consider the implications of his statement. "Not that I think…well, that is to say…you're quite… I mean, I would certainly…" William floundered, as Buffy arched a well sculpted brow in amusement.

"Hmm, I must apologize, for I fear there is no way to amend my words without further offense."

"Now I know you're not Spike!" Buffy mumbled. "Anyway, back to what I was saying…what was I saying?"

"Something about your manner of dress," William helpfully supplied.

"Oh yeah, thanks! So, women, all women, dress like this now," Buffy finished.

William considered her statement, but it sounded rather dubious to him.

"You know what? Let's save this conversation for the morning," Buffy said, sounding very fatigued and frustrated. "Once we've all had some rest and your head isn't actively bleeding, things will make a lot more sense. You can crash on the couch for tonight."

"Most certainly not!" William protested. "It would be terribly inappropriate, and mother…"

"Look buster!" Buffy seethed. "I've had one bitch of a day. You are going to stay in this house, on that couch, and get some nice relaxing sleep!" Buffy finished, in a tone broaching no arguing. After a moment during which she appeared to recompose herself, she added in the more formal tones of a practiced hostess, "Now, is there anything I can get you before I go to bed?"

"No, no, I'll be fine, thank you," William hastily replied.

"Ok, well then… goodnight," Buffy hesitantly bid as she made her exit.

"Well, I think that went well," Anya cheerfully opined.

* * *

a/n - Thanks to my wonderful, excellent beta - Timshel! And to Eurydice for host such a really cool ficathon! 


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